


Answer When I Call

by avennvares



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, No Plot/Plotless, Not Beta Read, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, if you can call it a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avennvares/pseuds/avennvares
Summary: “Tell me you’re listening.”“I’m listening,” Kurapika answers. He’s always listening, and always moving the way Chrollo tells him to. Chrollo loves being in control and, though Kurapika will never admit to it, Kurapika loves relinquishing control, loves giving in.
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Kurapika
Comments: 10
Kudos: 257





	Answer When I Call

The number isn’t saved into his phone, but Kurapika knows it by heart regardless. As his phone rings in his hand, he glances up at Leorio in the corner of the living room. He’s at his desk, bent over textbooks with his brow furrowed. Concentrating. Slowly, Kurapika accepts the call and brings his phone to his ear.

“Go into the other room and turn a fan on,” the voice on the other end says. Kurapika’s stomach flutters at the voice and the words it utters, and he stands without hesitation. There had been a time when he would try to refuse, would try to keep his pride and resolve in place.

That has long since shattered now. 

His legs lead him into the bedroom, locking the door behind him. He turns the knob on the box fan, its whirring filling the quiet air. His phone is still pressed tightly to his ear. “I’m here,” he says.

Kurapika can almost hear the smile in Chrollo Lucifer’s voice. “Good. Take off your pants.”

Using his shoulder to hold his phone in place, Kurapika undoes the button of his pants and slides down the zipper. He pushes them down, along with his underwear, the fabrics pooling on the wooden floorboards below him. He’s already fully hard— just from Chrollo’s voice and demands. 

Chrollo is speaking again, his voice low and soft in his ear. If Kurapika closes his eyes, he can almost feel Chrollo’s lips against the shell of his ear. As if he were here. 

“I keep thinking about the last time we were together,” Chrollo is saying. “How loudly you screamed as I fucked you, the look of anger in your eyes when I didn’t let you come.” Kurapika sighs, breath shuddering against the mouthpiece. He glances up and catches a glimpse of himself in the vanity mirror; half naked and flushed, his cock straining against his stomach and begging for attention, and his eyes a steady red. It thrills him and disgusts him. “Get on the bed.”

He does.

“Tell me you’re listening.”

“I’m listening,” Kurapika answers. He’s always listening, and always moving the way Chrollo tells him to. Chrollo loves being in control and, though Kurapika will never admit to it, Kurapika loves relinquishing control, loves giving in.

“If I was there with you, I’d make you get on your knees,” Chrollo says. “I’d shove my dick down your throat and make you choke on it.” Goosebumps form along Kurapika’s arms and legs and he tries to swallow the moan on its way out of his mouth. “I love the way you sound when you’re choking. The way your nails scratch at my legs when I’ve held you down too long. Are you touching yourself?”

“No.” Kurapika’s voice is hoarse, raw. One hand holds his phone, the other is curled into a fist at his side.

“Good boy.”

Kurapika’s stomach flips. 

“Would you like to choke on my cock?” Chrollo asks. He sounds so _casual,_ Kurapika wishes he could make him stutter just once.

“Not particularly,” Kurapika answers. On the other end, Chrollo chuckles. 

“That’s too bad. I suppose that’s what we’re doing next time then.” 

Kurapika’s own cock aches. He hates it, he absolutely hates that Chrollo can make him feel this way. Desperate. Needy. This time, he can’t stop the moan that erupts from his lips. 

Chrollo hums into the phone, and it sends shivers down Kurapika’s spine. “There we go,” he says, “that’s more like it.” 

“Put your fingers in your mouth.” 

Kurapika’s fingers uncurl and he slides the first two into his mouth. His tongue moves along them, wetting them. He makes sure that his sucking noises are audible, that Chrollo can hear them through the other end of the phone. He moans around his fingers, quietly wishing they belonged to Chrollo instead.

The only indication that Chrollo has started to crack is his heavy breathing on the other end. He doesn’t speak, just listens.

“Stop,” he says, and Kurapika does. His fingers drop out of his mouth, a string of spit trailing down his chin. “Twirl your finger around your nipple.” 

Again, Kurapika does as instructed, the saliva that coated his fingers already drying. His hips buck up and he pinches and pulls at his nipple. “That’s it,” Chrollo whispers. “Just like that.” Kurapika’s head falls back, phone slipping slightly from his grasp. His dick is pulsing, begging for attention. 

“Please,” Kurapika moans. Please. He just wants to be able to touch himself. This was supposed to be quick, and Leorio was just in the other room, and what if he started to get suspicious—

“Go ahead.” Chrollo’s voice interrupts his thoughts. 

“What?” Kurapika repositions the phone so it’s pressed properly against his ear. His fingers still on his chest, thumb and forefinger rubbing his nipple. 

“Go ahead,” Chrollo says again. Kurapika doesn’t need to be told a third time. His hand moves from his chest and his fingers wrap around his cock. He moans loudly at the contact, gasps into the phone. “I wish we could drag this out longer, but I don’t want your friend to get worried.” 

Kurapika’s hand moves over himself, stroking and squeezing while Chrollo makes encouraging comments and noises in his ear. Behind it all, he hears Chrollo groan loudly, which makes Kurapika feel triumphant. He got him. He made him crack. 

At least a little bit. 

He comes much faster than he wanted to, spilling onto his stomach and on his shirt that he had decided not to take off. His breaths are heavy as he comes down, deep inhales and shaky exhales. He wrinkles his nose at the mess he’s made and sits up, pulling his shirt off and balling it up. Looks like tomorrow will be laundry day.

“Don’t hang up,” Chrollo says. His voice is a little tense, almost like he’s speaking to Kurapika through his teeth. “Not until I finish.” 

Kurapika listens, making himself comfortable against the pillows. He collects some of his cum from a spot near his pelvis and brings it up to his mouth. “I’m cleaning my cum off of my fingers with my mouth,” he narrates to Chrollo, and he does just that. Kurapika sucks loudly, smacking his lips. He doesn’t particularly enjoy it, but he thinks that Chrollo does.

And he does enjoy making Chrollo want him. 

After he successfully licks his fingers clean, he removes them from his mouth with a pop and groan, whispering, _“Chrollo,“_ into the receiver. He hears Chrollo gasp, then moan, then sigh, and he knows it’s over.

They sit on the phone a few seconds more, listening to each other breathe. When Chrollo speaks up again, it’s their typical goodbye.

“I’ll call again. Make sure you answer when I do.”


End file.
